Family Ties
by Kaimi-Flames
Summary: Francis has an idea; let's throw England a surprise birthday party, but something goes horribly wrong. No matter what they have been through, Alfred, Matthew, Francis, and Arthur will always be family. Hopefully that is enough. No lemons here, sorry.
1. Chapter 1: Canada

'Ello Puppets! This is my third uploaded fanfiction and first one with multiple chapters (Le Gasp!), so I hope you enjoy!

This story came from two random ideas I decided to combine into one fanfiction. Each Chapter is from a different perspective: Canada, England, America, France, then it repeats that pattern.

Don't Necessarily Judge the Story by the Title or First Chapter!

**Warnings:**Major use of both human and country names; Sobfic (be prepared with tissues if you are sensitive like me), Injury to lovable characters (physically, mentally and emotionally), Cliffhangers, Slight swearing and angst, Possible out-of-character characters.

Pretty sure that covers most of it... I'll rate it T for now.

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Poland would have multiple ponies in rainbow colors, and Belarus would rule the world, with help from Canada and Korea.

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**1: Canada's Perspective**

Matthew had finally drifted off to sleep while clutching his fluffy white bear to his softly rising and falling chest when the silence was shattered by a loud melody echoing from his bedside table, "Let Me be your Hero" or something of that sort. He groaned and reluctantly slid his hand out of the warm blankets to grab the top bun off of the hamburger-phone, quietly cursing Alfred for having given him such an annoying sixteenth birthday gift.

"Hello?"

"Mathieu! Mon petit chouchou, I hope I did not wake you?"

"Francis Nii-san... actually you…"

"I just had the most wonderful idea spring into my head, and I knew I had to tell you immediately!"

"If this has anything to do with M-rated things that I shouldn't even know about at this age if I had not been raised by you…"

"Mathieu, do you think so little of me? I have thoughts not involving vital regions you know!" _Since when?_ Matthew thought to himself while cocking an eyebrow. "Well, you know January fourth has just passed?"

"Uh… yeah?"

"Alfred has been bothering you about plans for a three-way half birthday celebration for us, non?"

"Francis, I warned you about the M-rated…"

"Oh, shush! You silly boy, I was thinking about L'Angleterre."

"Arthur Nii-san? What about him?"

"Do you have any idea when his birthday is? I raised him, and I don't even know!" Canada thought about it a minute. This was true. He could never remember England having ever mentioned his own birthday. The only birthdays he even mentioned were America's, on which most other countries avoided the British man in his usual drunken depression, and France's, on which every country knew to avoid Francis at all costs (especially Arthur) for fear of their vital regions being invaded.

"Mathieu?"

"Sorry, I'm here. No… I have no idea when Arthur's birthday is. I honestly never really thought about it before." He felt a pang of guilt in his chest; he ought to have thought about it before.

"I think we should throw him a party instead. We can make him think it's the annual half-birthday soirée. It's supposed to be at his house this year anyway. I'm certain Alfred would have even more fun planning L'Angleterre a party! What do you think?"

"This is a surprisingly thoughtful proposal coming from you, France Nii-san…" He cut off Francis' retort, "I think it's a marvelous idea!"

"It is quite wonderful, non? I believe I should be rewarded for such a grand idea; I'll come over in a couple hours to help with the plans, and I'll expect a large stack of your pancakes when I arrive!"

"France Nii-san, do you even realize what time…" The dial tone sounded as Matthew groaned. Knowing the French man, he would arrive quite 'fashionably' late, so the Canadian curled back up under the comforter and drifted off into dreamland.

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Congratulations on finishing chapter 1! Thank you so much for reading this! Reviews are much adored.

I have a large portion of this story written already and plan to update every few days, so be expecting... not like 9 months expecting... I mean... like... like... crap, I'm totally like turning into Poland! Like where's my pony?!

Dictionary of Doom

Mathieu - Matthew in French

Nii-san - Older Brother in Japanese

Mon petit chouchou - My little cabbage (In France, this is a term of great endearment... I'm serious...)

L'Angleterre - England in French

Soirée - Evening Party in let me guess... French?


	2. Chapter 2: England

Update Time! I know it's kinda boring so far, but it gets much more interesting in chapter 3, I promise. For the meantime, enjoy the slightly-cracky family time!

**Disclaimer:**I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, I would give Korea an offical certificate of ownship of all other countries breasts.

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**2: England's Perspective**

England was not a happy camper by any means. Why on Earth did Alfred always insist on celebrating his half-birthday? Wasn't one reminder of his independence a year enough?! Arthur sighed deeply; he needed a drink. Now.

He shuffled into the kitchen and opened the wine cupboard and stared at all the different French names upon the bottles gifted to him over the years by his older brother. No, he would stick to tea for now. The party would be that evening and at least for Matthew's sake, he would stay sober; if France and America were to get drunk, Canada would need protection.

As Arthur took a seat at his little tea table by the window, waiting for the kettle to whistle, he pondered something. Why the bloody hell had Alfred been so persistent that the gathering take place at his English cottage?

He glanced outside at the frozen lake and slowly melting snowy garden through the fogged up window. Even with the bright sun, it was much warmer at Alfred's place right now; why not just go over there? Was this to fulfill a kink of Francis' about the half-birthday boys having a threesome in England's bed? He made a note to lock his bedroom door before any of them arrived.

**A couple of hours later…**

"Bloody hell, Francis! Are you trying to kick me out of my own home?! And why do you need pasta from Italy anyhow, can you not just make some yourself?!" Arthur struggled as the French man merely lifted him over his shoulder and carried him out to the car.

"No, L'Angleterre, in all other cases my cuisine rules over anyone else's, but I will admit Italy is the king of pasta. Now get going, and don't be back until at least six tonight, Ma Cherie!" France pushed England into the driver's seat.

Arthur saw no use arguing, "Just don't burn down my house, okay? You Bloody Wanker!" He saw Francis wink at him as he put on his seatbelt, closed the car-door and grumbling, pulled out of the driveway.

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End of Chapter 2! Yay! Thank you very much for reading this! Reviews are much loved! I know this chapter is short, so the next update should come within a couple hours.


	3. Chapter 3: America

Double Update of Doom... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, the female characters would punish all the naughty boys. *winks*

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3: America's Perspective**

"Alfred! This party is for L'Angleterre! I can't believe Mathieu put you in charge of food, instead of moi! Hamburgers! Are you serious? Please tell me you brought something else too?!"

America paused for a moment. "Of course I brought something else. I'm the hero after all!" Francis' relieved smile disappeared the second the horrible, gaudy British flag cake was revealed from the box.

"Mon Dieu, Amérique! That monstrosity is an insult to the culinary arts! Just go hang some decorations or something! And Mathieu keep him out of trouble, s'il vous plaît! I'm going to run to the store quickly to buy some proper ingredients. You both should be glad I'm such an expert in these matters!" With that lovely speech, Francis was off, and Alfred was pouting in the corner.

America felt a soft pat on his shoulder, "Perhaps you need a break? There's fresh brewed hazelnut coffee in the kitchen, and…" Canada did not get the chance to finish his statement for as soon as he said coffee America was off to the kitchen in a flash like the superhero he always claimed to be.

Alfred poured himself a mug of the steaming drink and jumped up onto the counter. He knew if Arthur was there he would have been scolded, so he better take the chance while it was still here. Slurping loudly, he glanced out the window and saw the frozen lake.

Lake means fish! Maybe, he could be the hero today! Alfred had never gone ice fishing himself, but he had heard that Matthew, Ivan and a few Nordics had tried it. He raced upstairs to Arthur's attic and found a bucket and fishing pole. Francis would be proud for sure!

He knocked Canada over in his excitement to get outside and ignored his brother's questions completely. America paused for a quick couple breaths at the edge of the lake and was just stepping onto the ice when something gently held his elbow back.

Canada was panting quite heavily having raced after the bounding and energetic brother of his without even grabbing his coat, "Al, w-what do you… think you're doing?"

"Ice Fishing! I know I messed up with the hamburgers, so I'm going to make it up!"

"Alfred… I… I wouldn't trust that ice."

America glanced at the ice briefly. "Don't worry Mattie, I'm the hero, I know what I'm doing." He tried to step forward but was sad to find Canada still holding him back. "Scaredy-Cub!" Alfred chuckled, calling him the old nickname he used to use when they were much younger.

Matthew blushed slightly, "I am not!" America smirked and pulled his arm out of his brother's grasp, strolling out on the ice whistling happily. He had made it about 15 meters out when his boot hit an especially slippery patch. Losing his balance, America fell with a surprisingly quiet thud, and slid out a bit further.

"Alfred! Are you alright?!" He heard Matthew call out from the edge of the land. "Of course I am! I am the hero-OWW!" America tried to get up to find his ankle had twisted. "Damnit! Mattie, my ankle is hurt!"

He looked up to see his brother wrap his arms around himself a moment, take a deep breath, and venture out onto the ice as well. Ten meters out, they both heard the sickening crack, and Alfred just managed to scream out, "MATTIE!" before he watched Canada fall through the surface and into the icy water below.

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End of Chapter 3! Yayness! Thank you reader(s)! Hoping there is actually out there and like this story... Reviews are much loved! Update in a few days.

French Dictionary of Doom

Mon Dieu - My God (France believes himself to be favorable with God)

Amérique - America

S'il vous plaît - If it pleases you/ Please


	4. Chapter 4: France

Update Time! Just a short chapter; the next is much longer. Yayness!

I would like to thank everyone who favorited, alerted, and/or read this!

A special shoutout to Kami011, nupinoop296, Facky, Scholastica, Peridot Tears, and Terry-May for their reviews of my stories. *gives you all pasta and wurst*

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, China's hair would be dyed pink by Poland and braided by his younger siblings.

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**4: France's Perspective**

France was glad he was so familiar with England's place; his shopping trip to gather ingredients was quite speedy, and he returned to the cottage with plenty of time to cook an excellent dinner for the four of them.

As he entered the house, the warm burst of heat he expected to hit his face did not. Why was it so chilly inside? He removed his boots and entered the sitting room to see the backyard door wide open. For heaven's sake, what were those boys thinking?!

Moving to close the door, he noticed the shape laying out on the icy lake and gasped, dropping the bags of food and bolting outside. "Mon Dieu! Amérique! What happened?!"

He saw Alfred lift his red teary face, "Nii-san! Mattie… h-he fell through the ice! He tried to warn me, but I…" France heard nothing else; his eyes moved slowly from America to the hole in the ice.

He stood in shock for but a few seconds before he raced to the hole. Francis kneeled down on the ice and tried to look through the water to spot Mattie, but soon realized it would be impossible.

"Alfred, are you injured?" He asked quickly as he removed his coat.

"My ankle is twisted."

"Try to get back to the house carefully. Call for an ambulance, alright?" America nodded weakly, rose to his knees, and began to crawl towards the shore.

France returned the nod before taking a deep breath and diving down into the freezing water.

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End of chapter 4; I will update this weekend sometime. Chapter 5 has a section from all four perspectives, so I hope it will excite. Thanks again for reading!


	5. Chapter 5: Everyone

So this is a very exciting update, as it is longer, and I tried something new: everyone's perspectives!

I would like to thank everyone who just in the past few days favorited, alerted, and/or read this! And of course the people who continue to read it. *group glomps*

A special shoutout to Kami011 and xxXSporkSistaXxx for their awesome reviews. Prussia Approves of your Awesomeness!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Greece and Japan would always be wearing kitty-ears and tails. Meow!

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**5: Multiple Perspective**

Canada

Matthew struggled towards the surface with all his might, but he just couldn't seem to reach it. The water was so cold Russia wouldn't have been able to stand it, and his head was pounding; he was nearly certain he had hit the back of it when he fell in.

Finally he was forced to take in a watery breath, and the edge of his vision grew gray. Just before he lost consciousness he could have swore he felt an arm wrap tightly around his waist, but that was probably an illusion caused by the temperature.

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England

England had just arrived at Feliciano's house and was forced to sit and watch as the Italian cooked his pasta. He felt his cell phone vibrate annoyingly in his pocket as the song "Holding out for a Hero" blurted out of its speakers. He needed to remember to kill America for locking that ringtone in for his calls.

Sighing, he answered the phone with a tone of pure aggravation, "What is it Alfred? I'm at Italy's waiting for the pasta. What on Earth do you want?!"

He was stunned when he heard America's sobbing voice answer him, "Ig-Iggy? I'm SO sorry! I'm not a very good hero. I wasn't helpful at all… It's entirely my fault!"

"Alfred, calm down. What is it? What's your fault?"

"Mattie… he- he's hurt badly… and it's my fault…" England dropped the phone then. He held a shaky hand to his mouth.

"England, ve~? Is everything okay? Please breathe!" He felt Italy shake his shoulder desperately and snapped out of his state of shock, grabbing his phone and keys, he made a mad dash to his car.

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America

Alfred had done just as Francis had told him. As quickly as he could, he made his way back to the cottage and called the hospital. When he had the strength, he stumbled back over to the door and looked out back to see France on the edge of the land, cradling Canada in his arms. The sight would have been heartbreaking if you didn't know who the two were personally. America did.

He had then called Arthur to inform him of what happened. The conversation was quite short as the phone went to dial tone after only his second reply.

The two of them had accompanied Matthew in the ambulance. Once at the hospital, Francis had been treated for slight hypothermia and Alfred's foot had been bandaged.

Now they were forced to spend a couple excruciating hours in the waiting room. Arthur should be arriving any moment; Francis was pacing back and forth waiting for him.

America just sat in an ugly orange plastic chair with his knees curled up to his chest and his face hidden behind them, thinking about how this day was supposed to have gone. They should by eating delicious cake right now and toasting to Arthur's many years gracing this planet, not here.

Why Mattie? Why couldn't he have fallen in instead? It was his idea… his fault… why was fate so cruel?!

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France

Francis never really paced; it was something Prussia, Spain, or England would do while he sat on the couch drinking his wine and laughing at their seriousness. But right now… he was most definitely pacing.

He glanced down at his hand and saw the light pink stain that graced his palm. France had spent at least twenty minutes in the bathroom trying to scrub it off, but it would not budge. It had no intention of letting the image out of his head.

Mathieu limp in his arms, blood dying his soft blonde hair, face pale as snow.

Francis shook his head as he heard the automatic door whoosh open once more. He glanced over and saw England standing there panting heavily and face donning a frantic look that he would have laughed at at most times.

"Arthur…" he said calmly.

England head quickly snapped in France's direction, and he sprang forward into his awaiting arms. They held each other close for a few minutes. Francis pulled away first.

"Alfred said he called you?"

"Yes, he did. What exactly happened? How is Matthew? Is Alfred okay? What about you?" The British man spilled out in one breath.

Francis patted Arthur's head gently. "Don't worry, L'Angleterre. I have God on my side…" He chuckled brokenly, "God won't take Mathieu away from us."

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End of Chapter 5... I cried so bad when I was writing this! I love the Hetalia characters so much... Why must I hurt them?! *sob*

I have up to Chapter 10 written now, so I'll update every other day most likely. Thank you for reading! Please keep reviewing and don't hate me for causing them pain!


	6. Chapter 6: England

Another double update because I'm very happy today...

And when Santa is happy, more characters get mentally, emotionally, and physically scarred... wait... is that how this is supposed to work?

Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, everyone would probably be about as horny as France, even Liechtenstein and Sealand.

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**6: England's Perspective**

England had drunk more tea in the past 48 hours than anyone would believe was humanly possible (although the countries are hardly normal humans), and the bags under his eyes had grown so large, they echoed his eyebrows.

America made a comment about them, saying that if Iggy drank coffee he'd look much better and be more awake. When there was no response, Alfred's face fell back to the seemly permanent new line of seriousness.

Arthur was very worried about his New World family.

A nurse had explained to him that the doctors had used a hemodialysis machine to draw, warm, and recirculate Matthew's blood; also, a tube of some sort had been put down his throat, releasing a warm saltwater solution to warm his organs.

Because of Francis and the doctor's quick actions, Canada had only very slight nerve damage in his finger tips from the cold.

That was the good news. However, the wound on his head was quite deep, and there was no way to know when he would wake up and what harm there may be until that time.

But Arthur's concern did not end with Canada. Alfred had barely smiled or spoke since the accident. That is to be expected in these circumstances England assumed, but still there was something off about America, very off, although he was not sure exactly what, it upset him greatly.

Then there was Francis. He had saved Matthew from the lake and held him as he bled; by the time Arthur had seen Canada he was patched up in a hospital bed. He was happy he had not been there to witness Matthew's injuries. France appeared to have been greatly disturbed by the incident; this like America's reaction was to be expected, but… England had noticed that France had stopped eating. Whether the rejection of food was conscious or not, he was unsure, but France refusing food was rather rare (not counting England's cooking of course).

In the matter of a few minutes, Arthur's whole world seemed to have become twisted and mangled.

Matthew was silent in a way he had never been before. Alfred would not laugh. Francis stared off into space for hours on end.

Everything was just so very broken, and England had no idea how to fix it. His heart was aching as he had no choice but to sit there and watch his brothers all fall apart.

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Thank you for reading! I adore reviews; they make me want to update more often. *hint, hint*

Chapter 7 will be uploaded momentarily.

Sidenote: I've actually been looking up things about mental disorders and how to treat hypothermia, so it ought to be at least somewhat accurate.


	7. Chapter 7: France

Double Update Party! You know this story just keeps getting longer. I started off thinking 5 chapters max, yet look what is happening!

Anyway, Enjoy Sad France!

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**7: France's Perspective**

Convincing England and America to go back to the cottage and try to sleep had not been easy at all, but France had finally succeeded. Now he sat in the far-too-fluffy awful floral-patterned chair by Canada's bedside and fought another chain of sobs down.

"Please Mathieu… you have to wake up… it's been almost a week…"

He gently grasped Mathieu's hand in his own. The hospital's plastic wristband crinkled as he bought it up to meet his face. The tears won, spilling over as he clutched the hand tight against his cheek.

"Je suis désolé, Mathieu! Please do not leave us… leave me… I couldn't bare a world without you, mon petit…"

Francis stood and reached up his other hand to brush away a strand of Canada's hair from his face, but paused upon seeing the palm once more. The stain had faded at long last. Yet the memory remained, haunting him.

What kind of a big brother was he anyway? He was not there to protect his little brother when he needed him. What if Mathieu did not survive this? What if he did come back? How could Francis face him when he had failed him so?

Francis fell to his knees, laying his head upon the sheets as his body wracked with sobs. An hour later, exhaustion overtook him with drying tears still clinging to his eyelashes.

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The next morning, France was woken up by England lightly shaking his shoulder. He jumped up and straightened his clothing, mumbling something about Mathieu needing another blanket before escaping the room.

He had barely walked out the door when his vision became fuzzy, and he was forced to lean onto the wall for support. Francis tried to take a few deep breaths and steady himself. He heard Arthur and Alfred's muffled voices, and then his world went dark.

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End of Chapter 7; Cliffhanger... my apologizes! Will update by Friday at latest. Thanks for reading... Reviews make me very happy!


	8. Chapter 8: America

Happy Weekend! It's Friday and I promised an update. I'm sorry it's SO short. ~_SWEATDROP_

Thanks nupinoop296, ruthc93, Kami011, and xxXSporkSistaXxx for your reviews! And thanks to everyone for your reading, favorites, alerts, and support in general.

Apparently I write angst well? In that case, Prepare Yourself For More Angst!!! MAW HA HA HA!!!

I mean... Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, England would arrive at the world conference in a fairy costume and skip around, blowing flowery-scented bubbles in everyone's hair.

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**8: America's Perspective**

This was worse than any horror movie America had ever watched.

Canada was hurt in a coma because he was an idiot, and now France had fallen too (quite literally). He had passed out in the hospital hallway as result of posttraumatic stress disorder.

Well, that wasn't exactly correct. The disorder had led him to exhaustion, and he had stopped eating, so because of that he had passed out, but now he lay in the room next to Mattie with an IV in his arm.

Alfred could not suppress the guilt twisting and consuming his insides. This was his fault. Everything was his fault.

As he followed Iggy between the two rooms and watched as he held Francis and Mattie's hands and gently touched their faces, America felt the weight upon his shoulders grow unbearable and knew that he needed to escape.

Down a few halls, he found a door to the roof and thought it the perfect place for some fresh air. Racing out onto the cement, he tripped and collapsed weakly, not even bothering to try and catch himself. The sting was wonderful. He felt the warmth of liquid ooze down from his cheek and knees and knew he deserved so much worse.

After a minute, he rose slowly and stumbled over to the edge of the building. America looked down the thirteen floors and considered it.

He had heard that there was a woman who died after jumping from a building that when they found her, she had a smile on her face. Apparently she was happy that she finally knew how it felt to fly.

"I've always wanted to know what it felt like to fly", he mused.

Alfred knew that suicide was not what a hero did, but after recent events, he was not sure he was meant to be a hero after all.

He would die on impact. It wouldn't hurt very long, and then, there would not be any pain ever again. That sounded quite appealing at the moment.

His ears just then caught on to the approaching footsteps before the voice rang out, "Don't You Dare!"

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Okay, okay... I know Alfred is a country and can't die very easily at all, but... well... he's mentally unstable right now, okay?

So thanks for STILL reading! Glad to see my "hint, hint" seems to have worked. Keep Reviewing! I'll update soon, promise!

P.S. Story of the woman, I got it out of "Stranger than Fiction". Love that movie!


	9. Chapter 9: England

Bonjour! Another update. I'm sorry to say I'm starting to loose my grip on this story, so please be patience with future updates! I'm trying my best I swear! ~places hand on heart~

I'm upping the rating to M because as I'm writing I seem to be adding more and more angst and swearing and um... blood, so it's a precaution.

Thanks for your reviews xxbochixx, xxXSporkSistaXxx, ruthc93, and Kytten of Evil!

As to what xxbochixx said, I marked it Canada and England because I thought it would focus mainly on them since Canada is the most 'seriously' injured, and it was supposed to be a party for England. I don't really plan on making any real pairings in the story, just hints of all the possible couples which the readers are free to take in the romantic way if wished.

I have read a couple good EnglandxCanada fanfictions on here though! I would highly suggest seeking them out!

Anyway, Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Spain and Romano would be found in a very awkward position while completely covered in tomato juice and nothing else. Does anyone even read these disclaimers I try to put careful thought into?

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**9: England's Perspective**

"Don't You Dare! Bloody Git!" England cussed loudly.

He had noticed America's absence within a minute of his exit and knowing that something was off, went after him.

Naturally, Arthur took a good many wrong turns since the boy had no sense of direction to follow after, but noted the door to the roof being left open an inch as he raced past it.

Once he had spotted his little brother looking over the edge of the building, he knew exactly what was off about him.

"Alfred! Come away from there right this moment! Do you hear me?!"

"England, you know I'm independent now. I Don't Have To Do Anything You Say!" He chuckled coldly.

Stupid Independence! Stupid America! Stupid Revolution!

"You may be independent Alfred, but I'll always be your big brother! Now come away from there… please?" The last part was begging. And already he could taste the salty tears pouring down from his eyes.

"Why should I?"

"Alfred, don't be an idiot! The world needs you!"

"Yeah right! A lot of good I've been doing the world recently!"

"What are you talking about?" England's gut was doing somersaults over how hollow America's voice sounded.

"Why Mattie?! Why couldn't I have fallen in instead?! Why aren't I in a fucking coma or at the bottom of that blasted lake?!"

England could not think of anything to say. His mind was temporally lost.

"It was my idea! Mattie told me not to go out on the ice! He said that it wasn't safe! He only went out on it to help me! And even when he got hurt, I…I couldn't do anything! What Kind Of A Hero Am I?! What Kind Of A Brother Am I?! Everything is my fault… Mattie… Francis… Everything!"

"Alfred… none of this is your fault…"

"Stop It Iggy! Stop Telling Me Lies!"

"Alfred... I'm Not Lying! None Of This Is Your Fault! Do you honestly think killing yourself will make any of this better?! The world does not revolve around you, You Selfish Prat!"

England could tell he had caught America off guard with that statement, just like he planned. Alfred raised his face to study his older brother's.

"You think EVERY success in the world is YOUR success; EVERY failure is YOUR failure! The world does not belong to you! None of this is your fault Alfred! And killing yourself won't help anything."

"Do you think Mattie wants to wake up to find out he never got to say goodbye to you?! What about Francis?! Think he'll ever eat again if he finds out what you did?! What about me? I can't watch my brothers get hurt any more than they already are! I c-couldn't stand to… to lose any of you!"

Arthur's legs gave out then, and he fell onto the cement hard. He curled into a ball and sobbed hysterically, pulling at his hair. Within seconds he felt the presence next to him.

America bent down and lifted England up into his arms and rocked him gently. "It's okay Iggy. I'm sorry. I won't jump. I won't do anything stupid. I promise."

Arthur clutched to Alfred as if the world was ending and as his breath calmed a bit, he noticed the irony of how bright and sunny the day was today. The sky was a brilliant blue; the snow had finished melting. Spring seemed to be coming unseasonably early this year. Perhaps it was a false spring, but one could only hope.

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End of Chapter 9!

ruthc gets a cookie for guessing that it was Arthur! Although, with Francis and Matthew both out cold, who else would it have been I wonder? *gives bright pink cookie* Sorry, I was baking them with Poland...

So, thank you all for your reading, comments that make me cry from laughter, favorites, blah, blah, blah. No, seriously, I really appreciate it! Keep aiding my struggles Allies!

I will try my darnest to update soon!


	10. Chapter 10: America

Chapter 10: America

Alfred and Arthur sat upon the hospital rooftop for many minutes, clinging to each other while trying in desperation to pull themselves together. When at last England's sobs had fallen silent, America waited for his brother to push him away with an awkward blush tinting his cheeks.

After a couple moments, growing impatient and pulling back, he looked down to see Arthur in a peaceful slumber with a soft smile curling up his lips. How long had it been since he smiled? When had he last slept without nightmares? Poor Iggy…

Alfred gently scooped Arthur up in his arms, faltered for a second when his bruised knees were forced to move with the extra weight, and carried him inside. He chuckled quietly at thinking of England's embarrassment when he would awaken later and found out his little brother had carried him while unconscious bridal style.

He placed his older brother down gently on the metal bench outside Francis' room, shrugged off his bomber jacket and spread it over his sleeping form.

"I'm sorry Iggy. Some birthday party huh?" He glanced around to check for any doctors or nurses.

Seeing none, he bent and kissed Arthur's forehead. "After everyone's better, I'll throw you the best party ever, like only a hero can. Promise!" Ruffling England's hair, he stood.

There was a rustling as he entered France's room; the nurse must have opened the window. He strolled over and tucked a piece of hair behind Francis' ear. He looked so surprisingly innocent when he was sleeping.

As Alfred turned to go to Mattie's room, a low moan echoed off the walls.

"A kiss for L'Angleterre, but none for your eldest brother, the master of romance? How disappointing!"

America yelped in surprise; then realization hit him as fast Hungary's frying pan. He flung himself atop Francis on the bed and hugged him tightly.

"Amérique… crushing… can't breathe…"

"Oh, right!" He loosened his grip on the French man who gasped in the air greedily.

"Francis! Thank goodness you're alive!" Alfred flung his arms around his brother once more, but being careful not to cause him any more injury with this embrace.

"Alfred… I doubt I was in danger of dying… even if I did pass out, countries simply do not die so easily." France gave a small chuckle at the boy's silliness, "Now, do tell me..."

"What is it?"

"Why is there blood upon your face, and L'Angleterre, I saw you carry him in and then kiss him, what shape is he in and why?"

Alfred blushed a bit knowing he had been caught, then reached a hand to his face and found his palm came down with blood streaked across it.

"Oh… it's really nothing… Arthur's fine too. He just… Francis?"

He studied the French man's face that had in the last few seconds blanched incredibly. His eyes wide in horror or fear, America was unsure, stared at Alfred's palm. He began shaking and bit his lip so deeply it drew blood of his own.

"Francis, are you okay?"

France did not respond with words, but began to shake dramatically and wrapped his arms around himself.

"FRANCIS?!" Alfred reached out his other hand and shook his brother's shoulder strongly.

France snapped out of his trance like state and flashed a look of pure loathing at Alfred.

"Get Out!"

"France… what's wrong with…"

"GET OUT! Fiche moi le paix! Brûlez dans l'enfer!!! PUTE!" France spat out the insults viciously.

America jumped out of the way of the somewhat-well-thrown food tray and dashed from the room in great confusion.


	11. Chapter 11: Multiple

How to describe my life in the past two weeks? It would make a good fanfiction plot, maybe multiple plots. Anyway, everything is finally in a somewhat stable condition, so I return. Please forgive my absence!

Thanks nupinoop296, xxXSporkSistaXxx, ruthc93, CBJC, Kami011, Kytten of Evil, and Deal-wit-it for your reviews! And thanks to everyone for your reading, favorites, alerts, and support.

I'm trying very hard to make my chapters longer and better. I'm still pretty new at this. All the same, Please Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Taiwan & Poland would throw a worldwide fashion show with the other characters as models (and the models would have no choice in the matter ~wink).

* * *

**11: Multiple Perspective**

France

A few minutes later, Francis had calmed himself down. Staring out the window, he pondered what he had just done. What had made him so furious at Alfred? He couldn't think straight at all.

It felt like he was a puppet unable to defy the puppet-master's wishes. He hadn't wanted to scare or hurt America, but he had been unable to stop himself. What in God's name was wrong with him?!

* * *

England

England had had a startled awakening as America made his ungraceful exit from France's room, landing sprawled out on the tile floor with a loud thud.

"Bloody Hell! Why must you always make so much noise Alfred?!"

"It's not my fault! France just snapped and started throwing things at me!"

England furrowed his brows, deep in thought. Francis snapping, in his experience, usually led to getting touched in inappropriate places, not having objects thrown at you.

"Iggy?"

England looked up to see America's puzzled expression aimed towards him.

"It's nothing Alfred."

He pouted slightly at that response, "Iggy, I know you better than that! Tell me what's on your mind?"

"Really Al, it's nothing of importance…"

"Arthur! I don't want you to let your mind eat you alive, okay? You aren't a hamburger!"

England knew what he meant, but using such a ridiculous metaphor! He let the sarcasm lace heavily into his words, "Yeah, I sometimes forget I'm not one of your disgusting beef products America. Thanks for reminding me!"

"No problem Iggy!"

Arthur sighed and rolled his eyes.

* * *

America

There was no way America was going to let England off that easily. He was done being selfish! Arthur was suffering, and whether he liked it or not, he was going to share his pain with his little brother damnit.

"Now give it up Iggy! What is bothering you?"

"France snapping like this. It's never happened that I have knowledge of. When Francis snaps, he usually breaks down into tears or feels someone up… or both. He is not the 'throwing things at people' type, no matter how annoying the bloody git may be!"

"That was harsh England! I'm not THAT annoying am I?" Reading Arthur's look was not hard: you are far beyond THAT annoying.

"You missed the point Alfred. What exactly happened? What triggered his episode?"

"France has a T.V. show?" Arthur's eye began to twitch.

"Just kidding Iggy! Let's see, well, when I walked in he was pretending to be asleep… then I turned to head to Mattie's room, and he said…" America just caught himself before he mentioned the kiss.

"He said?"

"Um… he said, well, what he said isn't really important, but I hugged him and stuff, and he asked where you were and why did I have blood on my face. I touched my face and some blood got on my hand.

He turned white as a sheet and started shaking crazily. When he didn't respond to me, I reached out a shook his shoulder…"

Seeing the look on England's face, he added, "gently…" before continuing.

"And he just snapped and started screaming 'Get Out' and swearing at me in French! Then he hurled the food tray at me, and I used my amazing hero skills to dodge it."

Arthur stared off at nothing for a few seconds, and then he gave a great sigh, "PTSD… He has it worse than I thought…"

"Did you say STD?! Well, it is Francis, but…"

"YOU BLOODY WANKER! SHUT YOUR TRAP FOR TWO SECONDS!!!"

America shuddered and took a few steps away from Iggy as the older man took deep breathes to calm himself.

"I'm sorry Alfred. I did not mean it."

"It's okay. What were you saying about Francis?"

"I was referring to posttraumatic stress disorder. I asked one of the nurses about it earlier. Replying of a traumatic memory, fits of anger, being easily startled, distancing oneself from those close to you… can all be caused by it, and that's just a of the few possibilities…"

America fell dramatically on the bench beside his elder brother. "Well… doesn't this just suck? Wonder if anyone has any good news today!"

Just then a nurse's soft footfalls came down the hall, and she entered Canada's room; within a few seconds, she bolted back out again, calling for a doctor.

America and England jumped up in alarm.

"What's wrong with Mattie?!"

"Matthew Williams… He's Awake!" She smiled brightly.

* * *

End of Chapter 11! Longest chapter yet! Yay!

I know, it's about friggin' time Mattie woke up, right? Well, wish granted!

BTW, xxXSporkSistaXxx, I don't think Toris or Ivan would like it if you steal Poland; you well have to be punished, da? KOL KOL KOL KOL KOL KOL

I'll update as soon as I can! Ta for now!


	12. Chapter 12: England & America

I think I jinxed myself by saying my life was returning to stable condition on here. Oh well!

Thanks xxXSporkSistaXxx, Kami011, Deal-wit-it, nupinoop296, and ruthc93 for your continuing reviews! And thanks to all for your reading, favorites, alerts, and support.

At least my chapters keep getting longer, right? Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, diction, and OC Penny. If I owned Hetalia, Belarus would dress up like a sunflower and wear sunflower perfume, and finally become one with a surprisingly willing Russia.

* * *

**12: England and America's Perspective**

England

England and America raced into the room halting at the side of Canada's bed. The pale country lay very still, staring at the ceiling. Arthur reached up a tentative hand and shifted the hair from Matthew's face. He accidently brushed that certain strand, and jerked back. However, Canada did not react to his hair curl being touched; this alarmed England greatly, but he hid it.

"Matthew, thank god you're awake. We were so worried! How do you feel?"

"Arthur?"

"Yes, it's me, and Alfred is here too."

Canada shifted his head to look at them better, grimacing with pain. His eyes widened a bit, and he stared at them a minute before speaking again.

"Al, would you do me a favor? Could you bring me a Canadian Flag? Please. This is very important." His voice cracked weakly.

"Of course Mattie! I'll be back before you can say maple!"

England watched as America spirited off yelling something about being a hero.

"Is Francis here?"

How much he had missed that soft whispering voice!

"Oh, yes, but he's… resting next door." It wasn't exactly a lie, right?

"I want to see him too!"

England only had time to take a step towards the bed before Canada had sat up, removed the covers, swung his legs over the side and stood upon them. For a brief moment, they both believed he might actually be able to stand. Then wobbling, his knees gave out. England rushed forward and caught him, causing the Canadian to fall into his lap upon the tiled floor.

"Matthew, are you alright?! You shouldn't try to walk just yet, or sit up so fast either. Do you want to get hurt even more?"

"S-sorry Arthur… I just…"

"I know. Its okay, but you must be more careful. The Frog can visit you later."

Matthew nodded, and a peaceful silence fell over them as he pillowed his head upon his older brother's thigh. Arthur blushed slightly as this motion.

"Arthur… may I… um… ask you something?"

"Of course Matthew."

"I remember falling into the water and struggling for the surface, but I thought I was a goner. How… or rather who?"

"Francis dived in and pulled you out."

"Oh… he wasn't injured, was he?"

"Slight hypothermia. Although I'm pretty sure that has something to do with his frozen heart melting in the much warmer water."

"Nuh huh. Mains froides, coeur chaud."

"What does that mean?"

"Cold hands, warm heart." Matthew smiled for the first time since the accident. Arthur held back the tears threatening to overflow at this thought.

England chuckled quietly, "Sounds more like you than Francis really."

"Perhaps, or perhaps not."

* * *

Alfred

"Of course Mattie! I'll be back before you can say maple!"

America raced to the hospital gift shop. A large display of tea met his entrance, quite literally as he stumbled through the fancy wooden doors. He and the boxes fell together; a few opening and spilling pouches onto his lap.

Who the hell would want English Tea at the hospital?! It would just make them sicker!

Then again, Arthur would probably die in a day or two without any of the icky leaf beverage.

"Oh my gosh! Are you alright dude, I mean, err… sir?" A young women wearing a lacy white uniform top and black pencil skirt hurried to his side.

"You are American, am I right?"

She nodded, her blonde and pink streaked pony tail bobbing with the movement, "Yes, I'm a college exchange student from Michigan, but anyway, are you cool? No broken bones? Although considering this is a hospital, if you were to break something, this would be a pretty good place to do it."

"I'm fine. No worries. I can handle getting teabagged; I'm a hero after all."

He was confused to see her blush deeply. She must be embarrassed to be in the presence of a hero.

Clearing her throat loudly, "Is there something you need help finding? I've only worked here a week and am still getting familiar with the layout, but I can try my best."

Remembering why he had rushed there, he jumped into a determined hero pose, "I need a Canadian Flag right away! My brother Mattie asked for his flag. He must be homesick or something, but this is quite urgent!"

"I'm afraid this gift shop wouldn't carry a Canadian flag. Maybe the French flag, but…" Seeing his smile deflate sent her into frenzy. "But I have one in my bookbag if you'd like it."

The girl disappeared behind the counter and reappeared holding a gently folded red square of fabric. "I live right on the border, and I'm half Canadian, so my aunt sent it to me for comfort, but I can buy another at home, so please take it for your brother. He needs it more than I do at the moment."

He took the flag carefully from her hands, "Thank you Penny."

"Wait, how did you know my… oh right, nametag! I always forget that I'm wearing one." She laughed joyfully.

That wasn't how he knew; he knew all his people, but telling her that would not be wise.

"I owe you one!" He called over his shoulder as he exited the shop and headed back to Mattie's room.

* * *

End of Chapter 12.

Thank you for reading! I am not worthy! I will update hopefully sooner rather than later.


	13. Chapter 13: England

Hello again... ~dodges tomatoes~ I'm sorry! I've know it's been forever, and that the last chapter made no sense. I read it when I was more awake and went "WTF?!"

Thank you ruthc93 for reviewing the chapter I'd rather forget.

Anyway, I promise this chapter is better and has plot! ~GASP~ Yes, actual plot! Please Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Poland would give Turkey's mask and costume a much needed makeover. I'm thinking pink and gold with lots of glitter!

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**13: England's Perspective**

England was awkwardly petting Canada's hair when America came spiriting back into the room, slipped, and fell on his butt while clutching the fabric safe and clean in his arms. England rolled his eyes at the idiot.

"I got your flag Mattie!" Alfred said with a beaming smile as he jumped up, then opened and held the flag high.

Matthew raised his head, staring wide-eyed at his flag. He gave a shudder; England reached out to place a hand upon the Canadian's shoulder who in turn clutched onto and buried his face into England's cotton shirt, sobbing.

"Matthew, what's wrong?" He asked quietly as he rubbed the boy's back in what he hoped were soothing circles.

"I… I… I can't even…M-maple! Oh Arthur!"

"Wha-what can't you do Matthew?"

"I-I can't even recognize my own flag dammit!"

England motions stopped in shock momentarily. What on Earth did Matthew mean by that?

"This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare. This is a nightmare." Canada began to whisper into England's chest.

"Matthew, it's okay. Everything is going to be fine." He did not even understand what was wrong, but he had to calm him somehow, right?

After a minute, Matthew's sobs ended, and he began to snore softly.

"Um… Alfred, would you mind?"

"Oh right!" He threw the flag upon a chair and gently scooped Canada up in his arms and tucked him back in-between the hospital bed sheets.

"Arthur?"

"Yes, Alfred?"

"What do you think he meant when he said he couldn't recognizing his flag?"

"I am not certain." He sighed deeply. "We should tell Francis that he woke up."

"No thank you! I don't feel like having anything else thrown at me today!"

"Fine, keep watch over Matthew then!"

"Fine, I will!"

"Fine, you Bloody Wanker!" England called over his shoulder as he switched between the two rooms. At least Alfred seemed back to normal now! Annoying Prat!

He was lost in thought as he entered the next room and was caught completely off guard when France leapt from the bed, tackling him to the floor and throwing lips upon his own. England blushed for a second. Then, getting his senses back pushed his older brother off him.

"Get the bloody hell off of me, Frog! What the fuck was that for?!" He wiped his mouth off with his wrist.

"I could not help myself L'Angleterre! I was just so happy to see you and jealous of your moment d'amour avec Amérique earlier!"

"That's no excuse! Wait, what moment with Alfred?!"

"Oh, nothing, nothing. To what do I owe this lovely visit?"

England was still confused but was distracted at the reminder of Canada.

"Matthew woke up. He's back asleep now. He wanted to see you; tried to march over here himself before he realized his legs were still not awake quite yet… Francis?"

France had turned with a blank stare towards the window.

"I do not wish to see him."

"Excuse me?"

"Please make sure Mathieu stays away from this room. I do not want to see him. I cannot face him."

"That's not funny Francis! He's our little brother!"

"I know, but I am not joking Arthur."

"You… you just called me Arthur?"

"It is your name, n'est-il pas?"

"Of course it is, but you never call me it. Francis, don't be selfish. Matthew needs us right now. There is something wrong with him; I'm not sure what, but…"

"I refuse."

England snapped and began to scream at Francis' back.

"Bloody Frog! You never think about anyone but yourself, do you?! This is why you make such an awful older brother! Go be depressed, curl up, and die with all your tragic literature!!! I can take care of Alfred, Matthew and myself alone! This way, we won't have to worry about you feeling us up either! You are bipolar I swear!"

"I…"

"Save it! I disown you, Francis! You are not my brother anymore!!!"

England could feel hot tears spilling over and ran from the room, down a couple halls, and up those all too familiar stairs. He had no intention of jumping; he just needed the cool air.

False spring indeed. Soft snowflakes powdered his shoulders and hair as hugged himself and begged the tears to heed. They stampeded onward.

* * *

End of Chapter 13!

Thank you for reading my horrible story! ~sob~ I'll update within a week for sure! (If I write it, I have to!)


	14. Chapter 14: America

Greetings! I'm sorry I haven't updated. I've been really sick the last three weeks, and I'm just now getting back up to the normal speed of things.

Thank you ruthc93 and xxbochixx for reviewing! _*gives amazing Canadian pancakes*_

Thank you to everyone and anyone who has had the patience to stick with this story. You have no idea how much it means to me! I'm not worthy! _*bows to your greatness*_

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, and diction. If I owned Hetalia, Korea would invent a contraption that sucked all the other characters into a Korea Drama. England can be the evil stepmother that slaps everyone!

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**Chapter 14: America**

Alfred was startled to hear Iggy shouting from next door, but he knew well from experience that dealing with the angry British man was not something one should volunteer for.

He heard the door slam and glanced at his watch. Fifteen minutes to let him cool off should be good. If England didn't return by then, he'd go look for him in the courtyard or gift shop downstairs. He'd probably go straight for the tea anyway.

America sighed and rested his arms and head on the side of Canada's bed.

It was great that Mattie woke up, but what the hell did he mean about his flag? He tried to make a mental list of the possibilities, but everything ended up about his alien friend, Tony, and some ray-gun of some sort.

Glancing at his watch again, he saw twenty minutes had passed while in his daydreams. He furrowed his eyebrows in concern. England should have come back by now, even if he was royally pissed off.

As Alfred sat up, Arthur entered hunched over slightly and dragging his feet slowly behind him. His head and shoulders were white with snow, and it seemed to have soaked through his clothing. He shivered and sneezed loudly.

"Iggy?"

"B-bloody Frog…"

"Guess Francis asked you out again, huh? Did he use his hospital thing as a pity ploy?"

England's head lowered the mention of his older brother's name. America took confident steps towards him, removed his coat, and draped it across the smaller man's shoulders.

"Iggy, there's already two of our family in these beds, we don't need you to join them, kay?"

"He's not my family…"

"What do you mean?"

Just then a small whimper sounded from the bed, and they both turned to see Canada slowly sitting up.

"Hey there, bro! How are you feeling?!"

"Like my head is filled with a block of a hundred year old maple syrup?"

"Oh, that reminds me, are you hungry at all? I know the doctors probably wouldn't like it, but we could sneak in some pancakes if you want them?"

"That sounds nice, but perhaps in a little while, alright?"

"Sure thing, Mattie! Whatever the damsel in distress says goes with the hero."

Canada blushed slightly and glared at him. America laughed joyfully at this reaction.

"Pardon the interruption Matthew, but… what did you mean earlier about not recognizing your flag?"

Canada immediately adverted his eyes, resting them upon the flag on the chair.

"Um… that… uh…" He sighed deeply. "Oh… Zut Alors! It's yellow!"

"… … … Wait a second, what the frick does that mean?!"

"Alfred! Don't yell at Matthew!" England scolded beside him.

"Al… my flag… it's white and yellow… well, not exactly pure yellow. More like a yellowish-greenish-gray." Canada tilted his head and squinted at the flag, studying it.

"No. Mattie, your flag is white and red… like it always has been." What the hell was going on? America began to panic internally.

"Alfred… I think Matthew is trying to say that his eyes are… different now."

America marched up to his younger brother, cupped his chin and pulled it up roughly to check his eyes. "But… they look exactly the same!!!"

England rushed over and put his hand firmly upon America's elbow. "Alfred, you are hurting Matthew."

He glanced at the British man, then back at the Canadian. Canada's eyes were closed tightly as water began to pool over the edges. He released his grip at once.

"Mattie, I'm so sorry!"

"It's fine. I'm fine. I'm… fine." His voice broke, and he threw it hands over his face to hide his tears. Losing control, Canada began to sob heavily.

England sat on the edge of the bed and rubbed the soothing circles once more upon his baby brother's back. "It's okay Matthew. Everything is going to be just fine, alright? I promise. You can handle this; we're here for you. You've made it through wars. Colorblindness is a mere speed-bump in comparison. Buck up Matthew m'boy!"

Despite his words, America could see the saltwater paths renewing upon England's face.

He choked back his own sob, circled the bed, and sat upon the other edge. Canada's face peeked weakly from behind his fingers.

Alfred wrapped his arms around his brother and held him tightly in an embrace. Mattie tensed at first, but after a moment relaxed into his arms. He clutched onto his American brother and wept for many minutes until he once again cried himself to sleep and his brothers tucked him into bed.

"Iggy, what are we going to do?"

"I don't see any choice in the matter. We just have to support him as best as the two of us can."

"What about Francis?"

"It's a lost cause. We don't need him anyway! I'm perfectly capable of watching out for you two by myself! Anyway, I'm cold, so please excuse me." Arthur announced stiffly as he turned and marched out the door, on a mission to get another cup of tea no doubt.

America watched him go, turned back to Matthew, and brushed his hand over the younger's forehead.

"Iggy is wrong. As much of a drama king or perv as Francis may be, he's our family. We still need him… all three of us… and especially you, little bro."

* * *

End of chapter 14. This is starting to turn into a K-drama, isn't it?

Please review if you do read this. I'm starting to wonder if anyone is reading this anymore. Although, I completely understand if you gave up on me! I really will update, I swear!


	15. Chapter 15: France

Happy Easter Everyone! I am having a very creative weekend or very procrastinating, depending how you look at it.

Thank you nupinoop296, Isen-Vinter, xxXSporkSistaXxx, & aph-love34 for the boosts of confidence reviews!

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, diction, and Penny. If I owned Hetalia, Switzerland would steal Prussia's chick for Liechtenstein Easter Basket.

**

* * *

****15: France's Perspective**

Did… did L'Angleterre really just…? Surely, it was the heat of the moment. The British man would never truly disown his loving older brother, would he? Francis shook off the thoughts and returned to sit upon the bed.

The room was silent for many minutes except for the whisper of wind ruffling the curtains. The quiet allowed Francis' guilt to swirl around and create a monstrous whirlpool sucking his heart down into the dark waters to drown.

He thought about the things he'd done to cause his brothers pain over the years.

The look on Arthur's face when he had found out Francis was siding with Alfred in the revolution for the younger's independence. It twisted to the tearful face screaming at him only moments before.

Mathieu's feelings when Francis had abandoned him, only for the reserved meek boy to then be abandoned by Alfred and Arthur as well, and then to be forgotten by the world. The memory that plagued his dreams returned once more. He stared down at his hands and saw his baby brother's blood.

He recalled reducing a young Alfred to tears by screaming at him for little mistakes he himself had made when he was that small. The image was tossed violently from his mind as he recalled screaming at him that very morning and throwing the closest object he could grab at the nation as he fled the room in fear.

Times when he had taken advantage (or at least tried to) of all three of them, both on and off of the bed, flashed across his mind. Mathieu always tried to say no, but Francis pushed him into it every time without fail. The boy just wanted to be noticed. He was so afraid of being abandoned again. It had been no trouble to manipulate him.

It was true. He was an awful older brother. He was selfish and cruel, but he did love them. He loved his three younger brothers more than he loved a batch of perfectly-ripened red wine.

What was the proper thing to do in this situation? He had lost the right to be a part of this family long ago, and now that Arthur had disowned him, it would be best for all involved if he ducked out as quickly and quietly as possible.

Mathieu and Alfred deserved an explanation of course, but Francis knew he would not be able to face them. Besides, he hardly deserved the chance to be forgiven.

A couple hours later, as the sun was setting, he pulled on his coat, folded up the bed covers, closed the window, and slipped out of the room. He stepped over to the entrance of Mathieu's room and reached for the handle, but stopped himself.

"I'm sorry." He breathed to the cold plastic door before he turned away and rushed to the elevator.

The chilly winter night air strung his exposed skin as he exited onto the street. He had left the car keys with Arthur. What now?

A young woman was waiting at the bus stop across the road. She was wrapping her arms around herself and shivering slightly. He strode over and plopped down on the bench beside her.

"Serves me right for thinking the weather wouldn't turn back to winter! Being from Michigan, I should know better when it comes to false springs." She laughed.

They sat a couple minutes in silence.

"Hey, I know it isn't any of my business or anything, but you seem kinda down. Wanna talk about it?"

He shook his head gently. This girl was the last person he wanted to talk to. He could tell she was part American and part Canadian. Part Alfred; part Mathieu, and in the British outfit, she also brought Arthur into the equation.

"Hmm… you know, I work at the hospital gift shop, and there was this really funny guy that came in earlier. Really tall and blonde with glasses. He came bounding right in and straight into the tea display I spent all morning setting up! Knocked the whole thing over. Tea bags spilled all over him. He said something about being able to handle getting teabagged since he was a hero or something of that sort. Like I said funny guy, right?"

Francis smiled slightly and nodded, knowing it had to be Alfred.

"Then he declared that he needed a Canadian Flag right away! His brother is Canadian and was homesick, but I told him that this is a pretty small British country-side hospital, and we wouldn't just be selling Canadian flags all the time. And he started pouting! Seriously, this tall handsome man in like his twenties just pulled a puppy pout on me! So I gave him the Canadian flag my aunt sent me. His pout morphed so fast I didn't think it was possible!"

Francis chuckled at the scene playing out in his imagination.

"And after he left, I had to spend the rest of my shift cleaning up the tea! But the thing is, even though he was a total stranger, his smile made my day. I've been having a really hard time recently, but just this one guy messing up my tea tower turned my whole perspective around. I've decided to look on the bright side of things for now on. I mean, being depressed isn't helping myself or anyone else, right?"

"Right," Francis agreed as the bus rolled to a stop before them.

The girl stood up and walked over to the opening bus door before turning back towards the bench, "So, are you coming or what?"

"No, I'm staying here. My brothers need me, and I'm done being depressed."

She smiled, nodded, and walked up the steps onto the bus. After the young lady took her seat, she sat up and opened the window. Waving she called out, "Good Luck mon ami!"

The bus pulled away, and Francis took determined strides across the street and back into the hospital; his long coat bellowing in his wake.

* * *

End of Chapter 15! Yay! Penny has returned and has a purpose! Hopefully now people can see things starting to make more sense. Reviews are love!

Now, I should probably look into my multiple book-reports due this week... ~sweatdrop~ I'll update... sometime... soon hopefully.


	16. Chapter 16: Canada

...Hi there... please don't hurt me... I have an update for you! //sob

Thank you so much for sticking with me, all the wonderful reviews, favorites, and alerts! I truly mean it when I say I am unworthy! Merci Beaucoup Everyone!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, diction, and Penny. If I owned Hetalia, the countries would be out having the most awesome beach party ever right now, despite the fact that it is still spring and kinda chilly and that it's almost midnight right now.

France: Anyone for midnight skinny dipping?

Prussia: The awesome me is game!

Hungary: *hits them both over head with frying pain*

Anyway, Enjoy chapter 16!

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**16: Canada's Perspective**

Alfred and Arthur had bid their farewells to Canada just as the sun disappeared over the horizon, neither felt like saying goodnight to Francis at the moment.

Just as Matthew was drifting to sleep he heard a yell for a doctor from the next room over and was startled back awake. He heard multiple pairs of frantic footsteps pass his door. What on Earth was going on?

Slowly, he pulled his legs from under the covers and stood, clutching the bedside and nearby chair to gain balance on his wobbly legs. He shifted carefully towards the door.

Peeking his head out, Canada saw a nurse upon the metal bench sighing deeply with her face in her hands, "I cannot believe I lost a patient, but honestly, where could Mr. Bonnefoy have gone? What sort of person runs away from the hospital when they are hardly even ill?"

Bonnefoy... Matthew's eyes widen. FRANCIS WAS GONE? Why? Why would he run away?

While he stood in shock, the nurse reentered the next room over mumbling, "Perhaps he left a note or something?"

Matthew was so confused and distraught and his head just ached so much, he could not think. He went into one-track mind mode, and the one track that kept repeating in his head was 'Must Find Francis!"

So he made his way down the hallway, stumbling often and leaning on the wall for support. Just as he reached the elevators, the doors opened and there stood Francis and a doctor looking quite stern.

"At least I came back! Really! You British doctors are so rude! And I'm a French man saying that!"

"Francis…" panted Canada, stopping said man's rant.

They stared at each other a long moment before Matthew's knees folded beneath him. France rushed forward and knelt before his younger brother. He reached up and took a hold of the Canadian's shoulders; Matthew leaned forward into the crook of his neck.

"Are… are you alright mon petit?"

"I feel kind of dizzy actually."

"Well that's what you get for not staying in bed, you silly boy."

"But…"

"No buts! Let's get you back to your room, okay?"

Canada allowed France to bear the majority of his weight as they tottered back down the hallway. Once the doctor had ensured both of their wellbeing and made Francis swear not to run off again, he let them be.

There was an awkward minute of silence.

"Francis…"

"Oui, mon petit?"

"Thank you."

"I did not do anything…"

"You saved me. Arthur told me that you pulled me out of the lake."

"Please do not thank me Mathieu…"

"Why not?"

"I've been an awful brother to you… Angleterre and Amerique as well… Je suis desole, Mathieu!" Zut Alors! Damn his over-emotionalness! France bent his head to allow his tresses of hair to hide his tears.

"Francis… don't cry… that's not true at all… you saved me… and the three of you are the most insane, idiotic brothers in the world, but I could never wish for any better. Je t'aime, Francis."

"Je t'adore Mathieu." He placed his hand upon his baby brother's which curled back and interlaced their fingers.

After a second, Canada broke the peaceful quiet, "May I ask a favor of you?"

"Anything, mon petit!"

"Can you sleep in here tonight?"

"I cannot promise I will not give in to the temptation to…"

"Francis! Firstly, I am injured in the hospital. Secondly, there will be nurses checking in on us. And thirdly, I trust you." Canada smiled and scooted over to give France room to lie beside him.

Francis adjusted himself to ensure his brother was as comfortable as possible and was surprised to find the younger curl up against him. He wrapped his arms around the Canadian and held him close.

"Are you alright Mathieu?"

"Oui. Though I'm still a little dizzy, and I have a headache."

"I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault."

"I'm still sorry. If for no other reason, I'm sorry you are feeling pain at all. I wish I could take all your pain away."

"Merci. Bonne Nuit Francis."

"Sweet Dreams, Mathieu."

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AAAAAWWWWW! So cute, non?

I really will update soon this time! But, you don't have to believe that, I probably wouldn't. //sweatdrop


	17. Chapter 17: England

Hello Everyone! An update, so soon? Indeed, it is. Never thought that would happen, da?

*sunflowers for CBJC, xxXSporkSistaXxx, & nupinoop296 because they are awesome people who are still reading and reviewed* Just don't let the Russian Bee get you! KolKolKolKolKol

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid by anyone to write. I only own the ideas, story, diction, and Penny. If I owned Hetalia, or rather if I owned all the countries, I'd literally be KING OF THE WORLD! (except you know queen... cause I'm definitely not male... so I guess not quite literally...//sweatdrop)

Enjoy!

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**17: England's Perspective**

"…What The BLOODY HELL Do You Think You Are Doing, Frog?"

The last thing Arthur expected to see walking into Matthew's hospital room the next morning was Francis… in bed… with Matthew! Hadn't he disowned that French jerk less than 24 hours ago? And even in a hospital he could not put his sex drive on hold. I mean, My God Mattie was still in bad condition and he just took advantage of the poor boy!

France sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes to see England standing in the doorway, turning redder by the second. Opps.

"Angleterre… this is not what it looks like…"

"Of course not. Well then would care to explain WHY IN THE QUEEN'S NAME YOU ARE IN BED WITH MATTHEW?"

Matthew was stirring at this point, unable to sleep with the screeching despite his exhaustion.

"Mathieu asks me to."

Arthur's eyebrow twitched, "Asked you to shag him in a hospital bed right after he comes out of a coma, did he? You lying pervert!" He jumped forward to strangle the French Man, but was completely in shock to be held back. "Alfred, let go of me!"

"Sorry Iggy, but that's just not gonna happen."

"Speak proper English you twit! And let me go; I have a frog to squash!"

Canada sat up and coughed lightly for attention. "Um... I asked Francis to stay with me."

"You… asked…" England stopped struggling and stood there dumbfounded.

"Yes, I asked him to stay. He did not do anything perverted. I swear."

Arthur eyed his elder brother. "Did you really not do anything?"

"Nothing Angleterre."

America released the now calm British man and preceded to grab his other brothers into a bear hug. England just stared at the trio. His three broken brothers. He could still see the cracks, but… everything was on the path to normalcy again.

Yet, he had disowned Francis; he had been so sure they could be a family without him, but… he looked up at their smiles and realized that Matthew needed Francis… Alfred needed Francis… and to his utter dismay… he admitted that he needed his older brother too. Just a bit. Hardly enough to even make a speck of difference in his life really. Francis is a pervert, a selfish, narcissist, a rude, despicable jerk, and his brother. The frog rounds off the family quite splendidly indeed.

"Angleterre?" He was snapped from his thoughts.

"Yes, Francis?"

"I must apologize for…"

"No. It's alright. I have no intention of giving an apology, and I don't expect one in return."

Francis frowned but noting the slight upwards curve to his brother's lips, knew the matter was settled the best it could be.

America grinned and walked over to England. He slipped his arm around him, and before the British man could protest had flung them both onto the bed and grabbed all of his brothers into a tight group hug which he only released when the three of them, suffocating from the lack of oxygen, smacked him over the head repeatedly.

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End of Chapter 17! One (maybe two) more to wrap it up and we'll be done... why am I suddenly very depressed? //sob

Once I finish this story, I'm totally going to start posting some of the others I've been working on, so please read them. I don't want to lose all my wonderful reviewer/reader friends because I finished this story.

P.S. nupinoop296, you totally called it, heehee *gives Russian Bee repellent* Feel free to share that with the others... or not.


	18. Chapter 18: Canada & England

Last chapter... I hope you have enjoyed the ride as much as I have. Please Enjoy this last addition!

For all my lovely reviewers, *throws a teaparty with pancakes draped in maple syrup and decorated with red roses everywhere* (guess which character I did not invite? Sorry, no hamburgers allowed!)

**Disclaimer: **I do not own Hetalia or any of the characters. I'm not being paid to write this. I only own the ideas, story, diction, and Penny. If I did own Hetalia, Italy would be able to change from girl to boy and back at will. Oh Germany, I have a surprise for you! //wink

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**17: Canada's Perspective**

"Al, I can walk just fine on my own now."

"Sorry Mattie, but I'm not taking any chances."

"Really Alfred, colorblind and blind are two totally different things! It's been almost two months since the incident. I've adjusted, so you don't need to loom over me being overprotective constantly."

"What are heroes for?"

Matthew mumbled darkly under his breath.

"Fine, fine. What are brothers for? Can't deny me that, can you?"

Canada was forced to sigh in defeat and allow his brother to lead him up the stairs into the French Villa.

"Amérique, Mathieu! Why are you so late? You were supposed to be here forty minutes ago."

"Traffic…" Alfred murmured.

"Hamburger pit-stops." Matthew said plainly. "Arthur's not here yet is he? He is always punctual to such events."

"No, I played it safe and told you to be here an hour before you needed to be."

"You didn't trust me?"

"I know you far too well Alfred. Now go blow up some balloons with all that hot air of your's. Mathieu, you can put the candles on the cake s'il vous plâit."

"Oui."

**17.5: England's Perspective**

It was nearing the middle of March, did they truly need to reschedule the half birthday party? It seemed to be turning more into a 'Matthew's been free a month' party instead, but honestly, Arthur was 99% sure that Francis only wanted to invite them all to his villa to lay them. Why was he willingly going again?

'Well, too late now.' He thought as he parked his car and headed up the entrance way. Before he could knock, Francis had already pulled him inside, and Alfred placed a birthday-cone-hat-thing on his head. How old were they again?

For the next couple hours, it seemed like any other of their parties with the crazy games and Francis making sexual references every few seconds, but Arthur was surprised to find himself enjoying this for once. He was unsure why, but they all seemed a bit less obnoxious than usual. Alfred did not even make any snide comments about his tea manners.

But Arthur became suspicious when Francis went to bring out the cake and his two younger brothers seemed to be smirking like they knew something he did not.

"SURPRISE!" They all yelled and England jumped.

"What the bloody hell do you mean surprise? You just about gave me a heartattack and…!" He saw the cake; the cake bearing his name.

"Happy Birthday Arthur!"

Now, Arthur is the Great British Empire damnit and no matter what Alfred tells you after the fact, he did not 'blubber like a little girl with a booboo'. Not in the least.

After eating his cake, they sat down for gifts. Francis suggested they do what many humans traditionally do, and offered Arthur the choice of either the number of kisses or spanks on the rear equaling his years gracing this lovely planet. And at that comment, England cuffed him across the face so hard his cheek had a pink tint for a week.

Matthew gave him a lovely scarf he had sewn when in recovery. Arthur could tell it was supposed to be the British Flag, but Matthew's crocheting skills were quite lacking, not to mention the fact that it was purple, white, and lime green. He loved it more this way.

Francis gave him a pair of books? What? The first was called "Cooking for Dummies"; the second was a coupon-book for sexual favors. Great.

Alfred gave him tea. "Thought you might like to get tea-bagged too. The hero can't hog it all, right?" He was cuffed, not quite as hard as Francis.

"And there is something else too." Alfred said tugging Arthur's sleeve to pull him outside into the chilly garden, out of hearing range from the others. He raised his right hand.

"I, Alfred F. Jones, promise never to try anything stupid like I did a few weeks back. I promise that there is no way you will ever lose me Iggy. Even if you wanted to, you never could." He leaned down and gave him an eskimo kiss, letting their foreheads rest against one another a minute before pulling away.

"Alfred… Thank you. That means more to me than you could ever know."

"I think I have a pretty good idea how much… Perhaps we should go back inside before Mattie loses any bit of innocence he may have left."

Arthur chuckled lightly. "Agreed."

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Okay. That's it. Ta Dah! Voila! I'm not crying. S-s-shut up! //sniffle

Anyway, thank you very much for all the encouragement, laughter and cheerleadering! Please read my future stories! Any final thoughts of overall and suggestions for future writings are welcome!


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